Game Over
by BackForBreakfast
Summary: One-shot turned full story. After Felix watches Calhoun have her first Game Over, things take a sharp turn for the worse when he steps into Hero's Duty. Can Felix be saved from his terrible fate as a cybrid, or is he doomed to this miserable existence forever? Hero's Cuties with dollops of both fluff and angst. Now COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Wreck-It Ralph_ or anything associated with it.**

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! This is my first _WiR_ fanfic (in the past I've written Red Dwarf and Friends, so if you like either of those please check out my profile!) I saw the movie a few weeks ago as it took forever to come out here in the UK, so my memory of it is a little hazy, but it has quickly become one of my favourite Disney movies (or indeed, one of my favourite movies ever!)**

**I totally fell in love with Felix and Calhoun - what an odd yet wonderful couple, who just work so well together! So I was inspired to write some fanfic about them :) If you like it, or would like to see me write more, please leave a review! Warning - this gets quite fluffy near the end ;)**

**P.S. _WiR_ should have totally won the Best Animated Feature Oscar over _Brave_. :P Just my opinion!**

**Game Over**

**-A _Wreck-It Ralph_ Fanfic-**

Sergeant Calhoun wasn't supposed to die. It wasn't part of the program.

She cocked her gun. "Alright, ladies. We're about to enter the tower. It's twenty floors of cy-bug-infested hell up there, so if any of you have a weak stomach I suggest you get your sorry behinds back to training camp." Her voice was sharp, authoritative, and even through her helmet the troops cowered under her stern glare.

The first-person shooter trundled along beside them. On the screen was a nervous-looking boy with a scruffy mop of brown hair and a face dotted with freckles. Calhoun estimated him to be no older than ten - an unusually young age for a player of Hero's Duty - but he was doing well, better than most recruits had fared that day.

"Listen to me, soldier," she said to the screen. "Those god-forsaken insects have taken over the central control pillar. They'll attack us in waves. It's our job to _take 'em down_." She emphasised the last three words with almost rehearsed precision.

The boy watched with both fear and anticipation as Calhoun cranked open the door lock. The large, heavy gate hissed, ejected a blast of steam, then slowly began to rise. The boy raised his gun, and Calhoun could see that he was visibly shaking.

"Hold it together, soldier," she barked, signalling him to wait.

It didn't take long to emerge from the darkness - that unmistakeable scream, that hellish sound that seared Calhoun's eardrums and reverberated to her very core. _Cy-bugs_.

"Now go, go, go!" She leapt into action, waving the troops forward. The men, with their brutish builds and heavy armour, bundled into the tower like a pack of elephants, their boots heavy and pounding against the floor. The first-person shooter, almost lost in the chaos, wheeled its way in after them.

Although the game was on rails, and the player had no control over their movement, they maintained full command over the usage and direction of their weapon - a standard-issue laser pistol with optional upgrades hidden around the game's desolate world. Although weaker than the majority of the troops' high-tech weaponry, the pistol still packed a punch, and was capable of dispatching most cy-bugs with relative ease.

As the swarm of fluorescent green insects poured into the room, the boy started to panic. Calhoun, suddenly overwhelmed with the number of them, fired a round of bullets into the crowd. The cy-bugs squealed and exploded into a revolting mess of thick, green slime. She turned up her nose at the stench. "Don't just stand there," she ordered, reloading. "Clear them out!"

Calhoun could see that the first-person shooter was having trouble. His aim was off - way off - and the cy-bugs were coming thick and fast. "Kohut, take the left side," she shouted to her comrade, her voice getting desperate now, more urgent. "And kid, don't -"

Before she could finish her sentence, she was knocked off balance, and with a great metallic clang landed awkwardly against the grated floor, sending pain shooting through her shoulder and down her arm. A huge cy-bug, larger than her torso and legs combined, pinned her to the ground, its weight keeping her from anything much more than a struggle. She reached for her gun. The cybug loomed over her, so close that she could see its rows of pointed, jagged teeth, hear the gentle plop as lumps of its saliva landed against her visor and dribbled down her helmet.

"Not today," she said through gritted teeth. With one swift movement and all of her energy, she kicked the insect away, sending it skidding backward along the ground with a dreadful screech.

At the same time, the little brown-haired boy fired his gun.

"_Sarge!_"

Calhoun clutched her hand to her chest. It took a few long seconds for the shock to fade before the pain set in; an intense, agonising burn that rippled throughout her body. The laser beam, weak though it was, had cut through her armour as if it were nothing more than tissue paper.

Her head started to spin, and she knew then that her code was starting to unravel. It was a strange feeling, like her stomach was being pulled away, and she felt in that moment as if she were standing on a great precipice, looking down into the darkness, knowing and dreading the impending fall. On the monitor of the first-person shooter, she saw the expression of disappointment in the boy's face, saw him lower his weapon in defeat. She looked past him, and as her vision started to falter, she could just about make out the brightly-coloured, time-weathered cabinet of _Fix-It Felix, Jr_. Then, wincing in pain, she collapsed onto the floor.

Game Over.

* * *

"Mr Litwack?" The nervous little girl looked down at her shoes. "It's not working."

Litwack knelt down beside her. "What's that, little missy?" he smiled, chuckling at her shyness. He was always a kind man, doing his best to keep the arcade going, to keep the kids enthused about his favourite pastime. He stood up and glanced at the game, peering studiously over the rim of his glasses.

"He won't move," said the girl, pointing at the screen with a chubby finger.

"I see." Litwack rubbed his chin. "Well, perhaps the controls are stuck. Let's see here." He took hold of the joystick, and pushed it to the left, then the right, and then more forcefully, left, right, up, down.

But no matter which direction he chose, Fix-It Felix stood frozen in place.

"_Felix!_" Gene stuck his bulbous head out of a window on the level below. "What is _wrong_ with you? _Move!_" His voice was worried, but tinged with irritation. He watched, terrified, as Litwack tried the controls again.

Gene tried one more time, his voice louder, more forceful now. "_Felix!_"

The handyman jumped a little, startled. "S-sorry," he stammered, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. Looking up at their window of the outside world, he saw Litwack staring down at him, and felt the pull of the controller on his feet. He suddenly realised the gravity of the situation. "Oh, jeepers."

After a few more tries, Litwack seemed satisfied. "There we go," he said, stepping back. "Give that a try." The little girl, barely tall enough to reach the controls, started to play, and sure enough, Fix-It Felix moved with her, following her every gesture.

She laughed with delight. "He's moving again. Thanks, Mr Litwack!"

"You're welcome, little lady," Litwack smiled. "I knew old Felix wouldn't give up the ghost that easily. He's been with us since before you were born, you know."

He was right. For thirty long years, Felix had lived in that whimsical, 8-bit world. Niceland seemed like such a simple place, when he thought about it. Even the name was simple. It was a nice apartment building, filled with nice people, under a nice, permanently-starry sky. In contrast, the bleak wasteland of Hero's Duty was a world filled with cold metal, fraught with danger at every turn. And this, this endless nightmare, was where Calhoun had to live. Felix knew it was what she was coded for, and that the programmers had equipped her with all the know-how she needed to survive there. But part of him wondered if she hated it. Part of him wondered if it was fair.

* * *

"What in the Land were you thinking?!" Mayor Gene demanded. In all their years at the arcade, neither Felix nor Ralph had heard him so furious, and from the colour of his face, it truly seemed as if his head was going to explode. He paced up and down, his hands wrung behind his back; a pottering little walk, more like a kitten than a tiger.

"Hey, don't be so hard on him," said Ralph. "I'm sure Felix has a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything." He smiled down at his pint-sized comrade, and Felix managed a sheepish smile back. For a bad guy, Ralph really wasn't all that bad.

"Yes, perhaps he decided to go Turbo - just like you." Despite his rather friendlier attitude in recent months, Ralph knew deep down that Gene still harboured a little prejudice toward him - especially when it came to the whole game-jumping incident.

"I didn't go Turbo," said Ralph, frowning. "And I'm sure Felix would never do that either. Why don't we listen to what he has to say?"

At this, all eyes turned to the handyman. He shrank slightly under the weight of their stares, and let out a nervous laugh. "I'm, uh, sorry everyone," he squeaked, with his unmistakable Southern twang. "I…I don't know what came over me." He paused for a moment. "But… you betcha it won't happen again."

Ralph smiled his lop-sided smile. _Said with true Fix-It Felix gusto_.

Gene let out a sigh. Felix was just so darn, well, _likeable_ that he found it difficult to be angry at him. "We depend upon you, Felix. You're the star of the show, you know that. Just please, please promise us everything's okay."

"He's fine, Gene." Ralph rolled his eyes. "C'mon Felix, let's go grab a drink or something." He patted Felix on the back with his huge, oversized hands, almost knocking him off-balance.

"If it's all the same to you, Ralph, I'd rather not," Felix replied, adjusting his cap. "There's somewhere I need to go."

"He's acting awfully strange," Mary muttered as she watched Felix head swiftly toward the rickety old tram station. She pulled a powder puff out of her purse and began to dab her cheeks – something she always did when she was nervous.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't blame him," Ralph replied. He scratched his neck. "He's been through a lot today. Just…go easy on him. We'll have our Felix back in no time."

* * *

Game Central Station was positively buzzing with activity. It was that time of day, shortly after the closing of the arcade, when every character had time to relax, unwind, and socialise before the night fell. Technically, video game characters did not need to sleep, and in theory could go on forever without it. Very few chose this lifestyle, however. Not only did it hinder their responsiveness, it was a very well-known fact that all characters had all been created with the capability to dream. And rather than a vague stream of consciousness that changed and shifted, their dreams had a continuous narrative, with vibrant colours, sometimes sound or music, and were infinitely more tangible.

Vanellope had her own theory as to why this happened. "D'oy. We're made from pure creativity. No wonder our dreams are so cool," she'd said, rolling her eyes. Pretty deep thinking for a nine-year-old.

"Excuse me," said Felix, after bumping into a bystander for what seemed like the twentieth time as he darted through the crowd. He did not like to jump, even though it was faster; the sound was quite embarrassing (being as he was, he did not like to draw attention to himself), and he would hate to land on a Goomba by mistake. But eventually, and feeling quite exhausted, he made his way to the entrance of the arcade's newest, yet already familiar game - Hero's Duty. A huge man in heavy body armour blocked the way. He was almost three times Felix's height, and looked down at him with a suspicious, heavy glare.

"Oh, um, good evening, sir," said Felix, taking off his cap and ringing it nervously in his hands. "I wondered if I could come in."

The man looked Felix up and down, at his bright blue uniform, his worn jeans, the golden hammer dangling from his tool belt. He smirked. He wouldn't last ten minutes in there - but he'd entertain him for a while. "What name do you go by, pipsqueak?"

Felix ignored the tease. "I'm Fix-It Felix, Jr., sir," he said, more assertively this time. "I'm here to see Sergeant Calhoun."

"Wait, _you're_ this Fix-It guy?" the man laughed, a great big belly-laugh that almost caused the ground to rumble. "I'd heard of you - I mean, we all have - but I wasn't expecting _this_."

Felix felt his cheeks turn a little flush. "Well, that's all well and good. But I have an appointment, so with all due respect, sir, I'd appreciate it if you could move aside."

The man opened his visor and wiped tears from his face. "I'm sorry, pipsqueak. No can do. The Sarge gave specific orders not to let you through here. I'll give you this though - you've got guts."

"What?" Felix barely registered his words. "Why?"

"Why don't you ask her?" the man shrugged. "She'll be out soon. Think she's just putting the last stray cy-bugs to bed."

Felix had been sitting alone for nearly three hours before he heard the unmistakeable sound of Calhoun's heavy bootsteps against the plastic floor. The Game Central Station clock read almost midnight; most characters had returned to their games, and there was little activity, save for the occasional whirring of the Surge Protector as he hummed past, tut-tutting at Felix and pointing out the time.

It had been a tense few hours, and Felix's internal monologue had gone into overdrive. One minute he was telling himself to _stop being such a worry-wart_, the next he was convinced his girlfriend was in danger. But all this dissipated at this one, simple sound. He leapt off his seat and into the archway.

Calhoun flashed him a small smile as she saw him bounce into view. But in a split-second, Felix knew there was something else behind it, something hidden. He'd seen that look many times, before she had learned to start letting her guard down.

"Hey, short-stack." It was a gentle voice, a far cry from the militaristic tone she took with her soldiers. It had taken time for it to emerge, but by gosh was Felix glad when it did.

"Tammy!" He tried to suppress the inevitable honey glows that always came on when he saw her. In an instant, everything he had pent up for the last three hours started to spill out of his mouth in an unstoppable avalanche of words. "I was so worried, I mean, I saw what happened, I… I saw you get shot, and when you didn't come out, I didn't know what to think, and-"

She put her hand over his mouth. "Slow down," she said. "I'm fine. Not a scratch on me."

Felix looked at her, then down at his boots. "But there is, isn't there. Inside."

Calhoun's tone changed, becoming slightly more acidic. But that was Calhoun, and Felix knew his dynamite gal was often prone to exploding. "I can handle these things." She strode past and sat down on a nearby bench, staring absently at her gun. Felix hopped up beside her. He quite enjoyed it when they sat next to each other; with his stubby legs out of the picture, he didn't feel quite so short.

As Calhoun felt him nudge closer, she remembered the first time she had seen him. There at once was the same naivety, the same silly curiosity that made him so ridiculously charming. But he was more than that. He was brave, almost stupidly so. And in many ways, despite his almost simple outlook on life, he knew the ins and outs of things better than almost anybody else in the arcade. And throughout it all, he kept on smiling.

"It happens to everyone," Felix offered his hand, and she took it. "The first time it happened to me, well gosh, I remember it like it was yesterday. We'd only been at the arcade a few days. I tell ya, I was just about thrown for a loop when Ralph dropped that brick on my head. Took me a few minutes to realise what had happened."

She looked at him, but said nothing. Of course, she had respawned a few seconds later, back at the bridge where the recruits began their games. But all these months, she'd tried so hard not to let it happen to her, and thus far, she had succeeded. Hundreds of games - no deaths. She'd vowed it that wouldn't happen, that it _couldn't_ happen, both to Brad and to herself. She was stronger than that. They wouldn't break her. She would never relive that pain.

It had only taken a few minutes for the cy-bugs to overwhelm the rest of the patrol, for the poor first-person shooter to be shot to pieces. But, in that moment of weakness, those few minutes she had alone, she did something she hadn't let herself do since that day.

She cried.

"I should never have let you into Hero's Duty," she said. "I know more than anyone how dangerous our game is." Her voice slipped into that familiar, imposing tone. "And I am accountable for the well-being and safety of my troops. If anything happened to you, it would be my responsibility."

"Ma'am, I would never have gone in there if I didn't think I could handle it."

"What I went through today was the least of my worries. There are far worse things that can happen in there if you let your guard slip. Things far worse than death." She looked into the handyman's eyes with a stare that almost pierced his programming. "Do you understand? I can't let that happen to you."

Felix knew what she meant. If he fell afoul of a stray cy-bug, if he allowed himself to get devoured by one of those vile creatures, he would lose not only himself, but everything he held dear. For those unfortunate ones, it was a sad, sorry existence - trapped forever in a constant battle, two minds fighting one another for control.

"Then," he offered, "I won't go to Hero's Duty anymore. But you have to promise me that you'll stop being so hard on yourself."

"Not so easy, Fix-It. It's in my code." She managed a small smile. Somehow, he always had a way of making her feel at ease.

"Well, that's okay." Felix reached for his hammer, laughing. "Maybe I can fix it."

"You know," she said pensively, nudging up the peak of his cap, "I don't think you ever used that hammer on me."

And she pulled him close and drew him into a kiss.

_No_, she thought, feeling his cheeks blossom bright red. _You fixed me all by yourself._

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed - if you did, or would like to see me write more or continue this story, please leave a review and let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews everybody! I love to read them :) After a bit of thought I have decided to continue this story. I am estimating four chapters after breaking it down, so please stay tuned for more! Beware - this does turn a lot darker than the previous chapter, and takes a bit of a twist even I didn't anticipate. What can I say, it's sometimes interesting to drag characters through the mud a bit ;)**

**Please read and review - I would love to know what you think!**

**I always comment on my reviews for the previous chapter so here you go!  
**

**nessier15: Thank you for your review! I agree that it would be interesting to see it from her point of view as well. I think that because it's in 8-bit though, the effect might not be quite so shocking - but still unpleasant! Never mind, she gets something similar in this chapter!**

**TotalDreamerGirl: Thank you, glad you enjoyed reading it! If you do read this chapter, I hope it doesn't get too dark for you - luckily I do have a habit of saving things at the end, not to give anything away of course! haha. :)**

**Guest: Wish granted! Thank you for reviewing :)**

**dancingRAINBOWS: I enjoy how Calhoun teases Felix with his cap too so I just had to slot that part in. You make a very good point about the Annies - am willing to bet the Academy aren't the most frequent players of video games, anyway! I hope you enjoy this second chapter!**

**purpledragon6: Thank you, glad you liked, and yes, sometimes writing fluff can be so much fun!**

**...and on with the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

There had been a time when he would awaken to the gentle touch of moonlight against his face, to a hand on his cheek, running through his hair, and a voice telling him to _wake up, sleepyhead_; to the sound of the wind rustling through the 8-bit apple trees and _whooshing_ past his window.

Whether it had been weeks, months, even years since then, he could not tell. Time had lost all meaning, becoming instead one perpetual line with no beginning or end; no days, no nights, just a constant stream of consciousness through which he existed.

Warmth, too, was a foreign sensation. He vaguely remembered the feeling from time to time; watching the steam rise from a pair of newly-poured mugs of hot chocolate, curling up under the covers and rubbing his cold feet against the duvet, the rosy glow of his cheeks heating up his face. But these snippets, these little scenes were merely fragments of something forgotten, incomplete and scattered, and seemed to vanish as quickly as they appeared.

Only the cold remained - an intense, bitter cold that pierced like an arrow. And as his insectoid body crawled amongst the mountain of eggs, he felt the icy shock reverberate through him once more.

The cy-bug was strong. At first, he had tried to talk to it. But the insect had no time for his pleas, nor his attempts at control. Its mind was resolute, and its goal was simple. As a brood watcher, it spent most of its time underground. It avoided the beacons, instead whiling away its days in one of the great underground caverns the creatures had hollowed out over the years, tending to the eggs and fighting off any adversary foolish enough to come close. If its human half dared come to the surface, it silenced it with a quick sear of pain. And so, this strange relationship went on, the cy-bug growing stronger, the human half wasting slowly away.

There were times when he caught a glimpse of himself – itself – in puddles of water collecting on the cavern floor, from a reflection in a sheet of metal. The six-legged creature, composed of blue steel with its bizarre, claw-shaped hands, was entirely alien. Projecting out from its elongated, many-jointed neck, its face betrayed its monstrous appearance. It was round, cartoonish even, with a button nose, and large, animated eyes. Were it not for the expression, twisted and gnarled into something frightening, he might have almost remembered it.

The cybrid form had given the creature a great advantage. Although regular cy-bugs were powerful, they lacked the dexterous appendages of a cybrid. The colony had a reasonable amount of in-fighting, especially amongst the drones and lesser ranks, and its advantage in battle had led it to many victories. The battles were violent and bloody, and neither party would display any sign of retreat until the opponent was ultimately destroyed.

At the time of its first victory, the human half was not yet dormant. And as the stream of innards churned down his gullet, he screamed.

* * *

And so, over the months, the cybrid that had been Fix-It Felix, Jr. grew plump and healthy, and stayed deep beneath the surface, skittering through the caves and tunnels of _Hero's Duty_.

That was, until one day in late September.

It was difficult to tell the month at all, as the planet's skies were permanently enveloped in a layer of thick, grey cloud. But the marines kept careful watch on their mission. Every day, every incident was recorded with meticulous detail. Although on the surface the environment never appeared to change, their key objective was always to stay one step ahead of the genetically-modified insects that called the planet home, and they could never take their chances.

Kohut spat out his gum and trod it into the metal floor. "I have a bad feeling about today," he said, his voice oddly dark. "There's something out there."

"Spare it for the Captain. It's the same god-forsaken hellhole as always." Sergeant Calhoun adjusted her bootstrap and, standing up, checked her ammunition level. "Great," she said, tapping the display. "I need to get back to base and recharge. You think you can hold things for this game?"

"You _know_ you can't do that, Sarge."

"Right," Calhoun sighed. She cocked the gun back into position. "Well, I guess I'll make do with what I have. Let's hope the next rookie's a sharp shooter."

Kohut looked at her. To anybody else she would have looked the same; that rock-hard exterior, the no-nonsense, tough-as-nails marine she'd always been. But he knew as he watched her that she was playing the scene over and over in her mind, again and again, until it buried itself into her code so deeply that she could replay it at will. He put his hand on her shoulder; she jumped at his touch.

"You'll get through it," he said. "Just one step at a time."

She didn't look up. "Save me the sympathy, Kohut. We've got bugs to kill."

* * *

It had all happened so quickly.

"Felix," Ralph said for what seemed like the hundredth time, "I am sure she's fine. We all have to work late now and again." He took another swig of beer and wiped the foam from his lips. It took a lot to get Ralph even remotely tipsy, being such a mountain of a man, and he was determined to do it tonight. "Fetch me another one, Tapper."

Felix nursed his strawberry milkshake. "But she might be in trouble. I feel mighty bad sittin' here when she might need my help."

Ralph stifled a laugh. "What are you going to do – fix those bugs to death? She's a hardened soldier. She knows what she's doing."

"I'll have you know that I am very capable of looking after myself, thank you so very much."

"Woah there, buddy. I know you are." Ralph smiled at him. "But you've just got to learn to let her get on with her own thing. She has her game, and we have ours. That's just the way it goes."

If Felix had his way, he would have been right there with her, fighting the insect spawn on the front lines. Initially, she'd let him tag along. But since her Game Over, all access to _Hero's Duty_ had been cut. And although he never said it to her face, there was something about that which hurt. He was the hero. Helping people was what he did, his _raison d'être_. And if he couldn't help her, he couldn't help anyone.

But he'd made a promise, and his promise was what kept him there, firmly in place on the bar stool, waiting.

The saloon doors swung open with a creak. Felix watched expectantly, but his shoulders soon fell as he saw two familiar soldiers clomp and clunk into the room, alone. They laughed to each other, their voices deep and bellowing, and threw their enormous guns onto the bar with a force that made the beer mugs shake. The handyman recoiled slightly as they sat beside him, the fragile bar stools almost giving way under the weight of their armour.

"Collins, Markowski," Felix tipped his cap. "How are we this evening?"

"Oh, hey Felix," said Markowski, removing his helmet. "I almost didn't see you there." He let out a long whistle. "It's been a long day."

"That I gathered," Felix replied, managing a weak smile. "Now I don't mean to sound presumptuous, but is Sergeant Calhoun arriving anytime soon?"

Collins laughed. "Always about the Sarge with you, isn't it?" It was a constant source of amusement amongst the troops, the relationship between these two complete opposites of people that nobody could have ever predicted. They daren't say it to Calhoun's face, of course, lest they face the barrel of her gun and a face full of laser. "Well we just finished our shift, but I think she's still out there with Kohut's patrol. The queen erupted out of her burrow today. Not a pretty sight."

"Come to think of it, they probably could have used some help," shrugged Markowski. "But I was already feeling the beer calling me at about a quarter past four."

Felix hopped off his stool. "Well gentlemen, I have to say fiddle-faddle to that attitude. I thought you military folk were supposed to have a sense of duty."

"Calm down, Fix-It," Markowski said irritably. "They're fine; they're in their own game. If something bad happens, they regenerate – you know that." He stared down the handyman with a sharp glare, like a teacher forced to discipline an unruly pupil.

"Well that may be," said Felix. "But I don't think it's right to sit here while your commanding officer needs you. Gentlemen – good evening." He straightened his cap with an air of defiance, and with a final sip of his milkshake, turned his back and bounded toward the exit.

"Felix," Ralph called out after him. "Wait!" He slammed his mug onto the table. "_Great_," he growled, shifting from his seat. "Thanks, guys. Now I've got to go save him."

Felix beamed to himself as he heard the saloon doors clatter shut behind him. This was just the excuse he needed to prove himself. _And they call themselves soldiers_, he thought to himself, chuckling.

Oh, he just couldn't bear to be apart from her another minute.

* * *

She could remember it like it was yesterday.

The arcade had long-since closed, but the cy-bugs kept coming. The queen, a hideous, monstrous insect four times the size of her drones, had reached maturity. Cy-bug queens lived in regenerative cycles of about eight months, and each time the day came around, it took hours of sweat, blood and tears to put right. She was a wily creature, quick to react to gunfire, and deadly if you didn't know how to handle her.

The skies had erupted that night, and torrents of rain poured down on the marine patrol so intensely that it penetrated Calhoun's armour, and ran in a river down her back. She shivered and wiped away the water from her visor.

"I want that ugly mug wiped off the face of this planet in ten minutes flat," she yelled. "Remember what I said. The legs are the weak points. Hit the joints between the legs and the body, and she'll go down." She fired a laser barrage at a group of drones and brood watchers. Most of the shots hit, causing the insects to reel backwards in pain, and she ran forward, jamming her combat dagger into the haunch of a drone. Another cy-bug went for her now, slamming its jagged leg into the ground with so much force that it left an enormous dent in the metal walkway. Calhoun dodged it with practised timing, and let off another round of lasers, hitting the insect square in the eyes.

"Child's play," she snarled through clenched teeth.

It was only then that she noticed the short, blue-shirted figure that had somehow appeared amongst the chaos. In an instant, the cy-bugs seemed to disappear, the gunfire faded and her vision narrowed to a point.

_Felix?_

She lunged over and grabbed him by his collar. "Felix, get out of here – _now!_ It's not safe here, do you understand? I cannot afford to lose you!"

His face was full of fear, and it was clear that every word made him wince.

"But Tammy, I—"

She cut him short. "Felix, I can handle this," she stressed, her tone on the border between sympathy and desperation. "Just please, get back to the station." She dropped him to the floor, and his eyes turned to the army of insects. _Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea after all_. Calhoun fired another round over his head, and he squealed with terror.

"Back to the station," he repeated, running through Calhoun's legs and toward the game entrance. His heart pounded against his chest, and with every beat he could hear the gunfire and explosions resonate around him.

It seemed, however, as if the cy-bugs had other ideas. Out of nowhere, an enormous brood watcher crashed onto the metal grating, blocking his path and knocking him off his feet. He landed uncomfortably on his back, and it took him a few seconds to orientate himself before he realised what he was seeing. The brood watcher screeched - a deafening, terrible sound - and he could see in great detail its dagger-like teeth, the insatiable hunger in its eyes. He began to back away, but with every step, the creature moved toward him.

There was no way out.

Calhoun took down another drone, and shot a hasty glance over her shoulder to check on the handyman. What she saw would never truly leave her mind. The cy-bug was circling him now, teasing him, waiting for the right moment to strike. Without hesitation, she launched through her soldiers, each second slowing down to what felt like an hour, each step seeming to take an age. Mounting her gun on her shoulder, she took aim at the beast.

The cy-bug looked at her, then at Felix.

In the next split second, two things happened. Her shot ricocheted off its carapace, barely scratching its defences. And without a second moment's thought, the insect gobbled up Fix-It Felix, Jr. in one swift, smooth motion.

"_NO!_"

Calhoun watched, powerless, as the cy-bug convulsed, then ejected a stream of vomit. Out of its repulsive mouth shot a solitary object, which careened across the floor, spiralling in circles and landing at her feet. And in a few seconds, the insect had gone, leaving only a trail of dust and pheromones behind it… ready, she knew, to begin its transformation.

"Sarge!" Kohut cried, making his way through the group. "She's in retreat; I think we got her." He looked down at the mess. "Jesus, what happened here?"

Calhoun's voice cut through the air like broken glass. It was a guttural wail, an animal sound with no sense of humanity, a sound of the purest, basest emotion.

He was gone.

And there was no bringing him back.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Felix! Believe me, it hurt just to write that happening to him!**

**As always, reviews are very much appreciated, and I take time to reply to them all in my next chapter :) Would love to know what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for your kind reviews of Chapter 2! :) I hope you guys and girls will enjoy this third chapter. It looks like it's still going to be a four-parter, so it should conclude in Chapter 4. It's been interesting to write this fic as it's taken on a life of its own, to an extent, and some details have changed here and there. I also realised I was spelling Litwak wrong in Chapter 1 - my epic fail moment! - so this has been corrected in this chapter!**

**Once again, your reviews are much appreciated and keep me wanting to write more, so if you're enjoying it I'd love to hear from you!**

**In reply to the reviews from the last chapter:**

**Witch Knight Daisy: I can't quite reveal everything yet, but hopefully this chapter shows that there may just be a glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel ;) Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter!**

**purpledragon6: Thanks for reviewing both chapters! Is he dead or isn't he...well read on and you might find out! :D**

**TotalDreamerGirl: Again, thank you for your second review, I really appreciate it! I like dark stories too, even the ones that end on a dark note can be really interesting. I think this chapter bounces between the two a bit.**

**LittleMissPanda84: Thank you! I hope that this chapter explains what happened to Ralph a little more as I was thinking people might pick that up! I'm so glad you're enjoying it and I hope this whets your appetite for more! :)**

**Sergeant Daniel: Your wish is my command - here's another chapter for you, and thanks for your review!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Kohut was right. There _was_ something out there.

Calhoun eyed the landscape. "How long since closing time?"

"About forty-five minutes."

She stepped off her cruiser onto the landing bay. From this vantage point far above the hatching grounds, she and Kohut could see to the furthest, darkest reaches of _Hero's Duty_. She had made it her mission to know every inch of terrain, every element of code, every nuance and glitch in the game's programming. If something were wrong, she would spot it.

"The bugs are stirring," she said slowly. "Unusual for this time of night. Something must have riled them."

Kohut shot her a glance. "A new queen, perhaps?"

"Impossible. It's too early for that."

"Then what?" Kohut shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Come on - let's go down and investigate. Whatever it is, I don't like it."

Deep in the underbelly of the alien planet, the cybrid shifted. Clambering to its feet, it stretched out its neck and sniffed the air. _Food._ Sources of nourishment had been scarce in recent months, and the cybrid salivated happily at the thought. Whatever foolish creatures were out at this time of night ought to be an easy kill. Its human half winced, though the cy-bug thought little of it. He was little more than an inconvenience now, an irritating gnat, irksome but satisfying to swat.

Loosened by the recent rainfall, the dirt slid and slipped past the cybrid's claws as it clambered up the passageway. It had been months since the creature had seen natural light. The hatchery was bathed in a constant green glow, punctuated by the shadows of the thousands of larvae wriggling within the eggs. There were no other colours; no bright yellow of the sun, no deep, inviting blue of the ocean, just a sea of green that stretched on for miles and faded into an inky blackness.

Calhoun scanned her radar.

"Something's headed our way," she frowned. "And from the looks of it, it's ugly. This thing's faster than a drone. I think we may have a big one on our hands."

The two marines waited with baited breath. The air was unusually still, and the wind had died down to a calm breeze. If they listened hard enough, they could just about make out the encroaching sound. It was getting closer now, and soon turned from a rumble to a deafening roar under their feet. The rocks and stones that littered the area rattled furiously against the metal as the ground began to shake.

"Get ready," Calhoun yelled as the earth broke open. "Here it comes!"

She shielded her eyes, and watched as a tall, silhouetted figure emerged from the cloud of dust.

"It can't be," gasped Kohut, his voice incredulous. Calhoun stood open-mouthed, unmoving, her gun lowered to her side. There before her stood a menacing, fully-grown cybrid.

She had never given Brad the chance to become one of these creatures. In an instant, she'd made a crucial decision – that to kill him would be far kinder than to resign him to this fate worse than death. But that was never truly her decision, and Brad had never truly existed. He was just a piece of code, a ghost-written memory created to torture her, to determine her actions and reactions – to make her what she was.

Felix was different. Felix was _real_. And as she stood there, looking at this strange, monstrous beast, she saw the same eyes that had looked at her so endearingly, the same face that lit up cherry red whenever he saw her.

"Sarge," Kohut pleaded. "You need to end this. He's not in there. That's _not_ Felix!"

As much as she longed for it not to be so, Kohut was right, and she knew it. Despite this, her fingers trembled against the trigger; she could not fire a shot. The cy-bug grinned at her hesitation, and one solitary word flashed through its mind. _Kill_.

But from somewhere long forgotten, another voice answered back.

_No._

_What?_ The grin quickly faded.

_I said NO!_

With that, the cy-bug screamed. The sound was ear-splitting, so high-pitched that it soon became inaudible. It stumbled backwards, gripping its head with its claws, its eyes forced shut in what looked like a grimace. It cried out in pain. _What are you doing?_

To tell the truth, he didn't know. All he knew is that she couldn't die. He couldn't even recall her name, but as he looked at her, a wave of strange, foreign emotion surged through his body. In an instant, half-forgotten memories fell into place; images that had distorted with time turned clear. And he fought back, braved through every jolt of pain until the insect had no choice but to retreat.

It was only then that Calhoun noticed Kohut's weapon pointed directly at the cybrid's head.

"Kohut," she shrieked, "_don't!_" She leapt at the burly marine, knocking him off-balance and sending them both tumbling to the ground. They watched as the cybrid, reeling in agony, writhed its way back into the tunnel and disappeared.

Kohut pushed her away. "Are you crazy? I had point-blank range on that thing. Why can't you just let this go?"

Calhoun sat stunned for a few moments before answering. "You saw it." She wiped her eyes. "He's still in there, somewhere. That cy-bug was ready to strike, but he pulled it back. I don't know how, but maybe… maybe there's still a way to save him." She felt her lips pull into a smile, a sensation that nowadays seemed all too rare.

Kohut's voice was firm. "Do you have any idea what you sound like? You're delusional, Sarge. You know as well as I do that letting that monster escape endangers the survival of our troops. Now you're welcome to go on this wild goose chase all you like, but I guarantee that no good will come of it."

"I know you mean well," Calhoun sighed, looking down at her boots, "but there's something you don't understand. He fixed me, Kohut. And if there's a chance I can fix him in return, well, I'm going to try." Reaching down to her belt, she removed the object she had kept by her side for the last six months, the same object regurgitated by the cy-bug moments after Felix was lost: a simple, dull, grey hammer. She turned it over in her hands, running her fingers against the cool metal. "Perhaps there's a way I can power this up again."

"And just who in the arcade would know anything about that?"

"I think," said Calhoun, "it's time I went and saw some old friends."

* * *

Without anybody to do the fixing, it was only a matter of days before the old, battered cabinet of _Fix-It Felix, Jr._ was lifted onto a cart and wheeled into the back room of Litwak's Arcade. Litwak was sad to see it go – it was an old friend, there from the earliest days of the establishment, and as its place sat empty the children always asked where the smiling blue handyman had disappeared off to.

Ralph and the Nicelanders, knowing the severity of the situation, quickly left their game in a well-organised rescue effort. After much deliberation (and persuasion from Ralph himself) they decided to make their home in the candy-coated racing game _Sugar Rush_, a decision which the newly-elected President von Schweetz was only too happy to oblige.

It had been months since Calhoun had visited the game, and as she rode her cruiser down the long, winding entrance wire, she strangely looked forward to seeing the surreal place once more. Since Turbo was deposed, the place was even brighter and more colourful. The candy cane forests had flourished, and where trickling streams had once flowed through the valleys of fudge, there were powerful, sickly-sweet rivers of delicious chocolate. She soared out onto the rainbow-coloured pathway and found that the air smelt of mint and strawberry, an unusual but pleasant combination.

Vanellope's pink-frosted castle stood dominant against the landscape. With one hand firmly against the hammer, she set off in its direction.

"Five wins in a row," Ralph said, impressed. "You're really tearing it up out there, kid." He gave the nine-year-old a playful nudge, and she hopped up onto his shoulder.

"I told you, Ralphie – I was born to be a racer. Just three more and I'll be competing in the Dubble Bubble Derby." Vanellope grinned a toothy grin. In a world made of candy, Ralph thought, it was surprising that she had no cavities.

"Alright there, little miss President. Just don't get too cocky, okay?"

They were interrupted by Sour Bill, King Candy's former henchman who had since become both Vanellope's aide and officially appointed race announcer – and of course, had learned to smile a little more. He cleared his throat and gave a bow. "Excuse me, your Excellency," he said in his monotone drawl. "It appears you have a visitor."

Vanellope let out a vicious snicker. "It's probably Taffyta, begging for a rematch. That girl just doesn't know when to quit." She slid down Ralph's arm and bounced onto the ground. Dusting herself down, she motioned Sour Bill away with great pomp. "You can tell her she is permitted to enter." Ralph smiled. Even though Vanellope was a little _too_ into her role, she still had that same charming sweetness he'd grown to love.

The gingerbread doors swung open, and Ralph recognised the approaching figure instantly. His mouth hung agape. "Tamora?"

"Long time no see, Wreck-It," the sergeant nodded in acknowledgement, her footsteps heavy against the soft nougat floor. "I see the security's as good as ever. How are you guys doing in this place, anyway?"

"We're – we're fine," Ralph began, scratching the back of his head. "It's just a real surprise to see you. What has it been – four, five months?"

Calhoun had become somewhat of a recluse in the time following Felix's unfortunate death. Soon, despite their best efforts, she disappeared altogether, spending the majority of her time in _Hero's Duty_ in a desperate bid to make things right. Her disposition this day seemed different, however – she seemed lighter, as if some of the weight on her shoulders had been magically lifted.

"Sounds about right." Vanellope tugged at Calhoun's bootstrap, and the marine looked down at her. "Didn't see you there, sweet stuff," she smiled. "Here you go – but don't go causing too much trouble." She handed over her laser pistol, and Vanellope giggled with glee. "And remember, it's just between us."

As the little girl ran off excitedly toward the doorway, Ralph looked up at Calhoun with disappointment. "I really wish you wouldn't do that."

"She won't do any harm," said Calhoun. "Plus, it doesn't hurt to give her some practice." She placed her hands on her hips. "It's good to see you again, Ralph."

"You too," Ralph admitted. "How are things in _Hero's Duty_?"

"As it happens, that's what I came to talk to you about. I saw it today, for the first time since the incident. The cybrid."

Ralph froze. He remembered it all too well; how he hadn't been able to help, how he'd watched from afar as the cy-bug gobbled up his colleague, knowing it meant the end both for his life and his game. He'd always told himself that it was never his fault, that he was a bad guy and not a hero, and that it wasn't his job to rescue him. But in part, he'd always scolded himself for not being there sooner. These feelings had faded over time, especially with his new focus on _Sugar Rush_ and Vanellope, but every now and again he would think of Felix and the thoughts would come flooding back.

"Oh," was his simple response. "Is it—" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"No, it's not dead," said Calhoun. Ralph breathed a sigh of relief. "Wretched thing buried back underground. But I need to know more about _this_." She handed him the hammer, and Ralph, wide-eyed, let it rest upon his massive palm.

"Where did you get this?"

"Long story. But I need to know something. The magic in this hammer - is there any way we could make it work again?"

Ralph rubbed his chin. "Felix never told me much about it. All I know is that the hammer only works in the hands of a Fix-It. It's a sort of… family thing. I don't think the magic goes much deeper than that."

_The hands of a Fix-It_, Calhoun thought to herself. From the few conversations she'd had with Felix about his family, she knew that neither his mother nor father had ever been physically coded into his game; they were figments, like Brad, designed to enhance the backstory of the central characters. Although he had memories of them, they were essentially worthless.

"And he doesn't – didn't – have any other family members that you know of?"

"No," said Ralph. "I don't think TomiKobi thought much use for that in 1982. Our game didn't have a fancy cast of characters like these modern ones – just me, Felix and the Nicelanders." He gave the hammer one last look and handed it back to Calhoun.

As he did so, a voice came from the doorway. "Well look who decided to show her face again."

Calhoun recognised it instantly. _Gene_.

The little moustached man plodded his way into the throne room. Although he barely reached above Calhoun's boots, he still carried a sense of importance about him, and showed no sign of nervousness in her presence. "Not content with taking one game down? Thought you'd come and try your luck with this one?"

"Knock it off, Gene," Ralph frowned.

"Nice to see you too, Mayor." Calhoun narrowed her eyes. "Good to see you've let bygones be bygones."

"You know, I never understood why you're on her side," said Gene, turning to Ralph with an accusatory glare. Calhoun gave a threatening step forward, but Ralph held her back.

"Hey, this hasn't been easy on any of us." He held up his hands in a vain attempt at peacekeeping. "What happened was nobody's fault, least of all the sergeant's. We have to focus on what we have now and stop living in the past."

"Oh, I'm sure this has been all fun and rainbows for _you_, Ralph." Gene folded his arms. "But some of us were perfectly happy where we were. _New games_," he spat. "I'll never understand them."

"As much as I'd love to stick around," said Calhoun, her voice dripping with acid, "I think I'd best be going. Wreck-It, it was a pleasure."

As she left, the sound of a laser _pinged_ outside and a portion of the ceiling crumbled down, lightly dusting Ralph's hair with cocoa powder.

He sighed. "That'll be Vanellope, then."

* * *

"Narrow-minded idiot," Calhoun muttered to herself, sitting at her desk and hunched over her combat manual. She had a strong feeling that anything the Mayor knew about love wouldn't even fill a page.

Despite being one of the highest-ranking officers in the game, Calhoun's living compartments were small, although private. The room consisted of few things: a bed, a writing desk and lamp, and several compartments in which she stored her armour and weapons. The one window opened out onto the bridge and gave a clear view of the tower the recruits tried to conquer day after day.

The door slid open. "Package from _Sugar Rush_, Sarge."

"Thanks, Markowski. Leave it by the window."

When he had gone, she pulled open the parcel. Inside was her laser pistol – dangerously low on ammo – and a large, candy heart, scrawled upon in child's handwriting with the words '_come see us again soon'_. She smiled and broke off a bite.

Her visit to _Sugar Rush_ had been, to say the least, frustrating. Beside her encounter with Gene, it seemed as if the hammer's magic was forever spent. There were no other Fix-Its to carry the flame, and as far as anyone knew, no more avenues to explore. She slammed the combat manual shut and rolled onto her bed, feeling the piece of candy melt in her mouth. _There must be a way_. It was painful to think otherwise.

Her mind full of questions, it took her two long hours to fall into an awkward, troubled sleep.

* * *

Precisely six months and four days before the cy-bug queen erupted from her burrow, Tamora Jean Calhoun and Fix-It Felix, Jr. were married. Due to the opening hours of the arcade, a honeymoon was out of the question - but Felix had something even more special planned. The following evening, he took Calhoun to the top of a hill overlooking the Niceland Apartments, a perfect secluded spot from which they could see the entire night sky.

This picturesque setting was where the dream decided to take her. As she lay in the grass looking up at the stars, she heard the familiar sound - the clink of his golden hammer as it jingled against his tool belt.

"It's mighty kind of you taking me up here," he said, sitting down beside her. "All those nightmares give me the jitters like you wouldn't believe." Although he was undeniably Felix, there were several things off about him. His nose was perhaps a little too small, his eyes too far apart. Maybe his head was the wrong shape - she couldn't recall. But with only decaying memories to rely upon - no photographs, nothing except the information burned into her code - it was the best she could do.

Calhoun gazed at the heavens. She had never seen above the clouds of _Hero's Duty_, a fact which always made Felix sad. So, that one magical evening, the handyman taught her the constellations his father showed him, from the Big Dipper to Cassiopeia and the belt of Orion. It really was quite wonderful, that world of whimsy and imagination, and she missed it dearly.

"I wish I could remember their names," she said, realising that they too had been lost with time.

"So do I," Felix said wistfully. "Boy, were my cheeks on _fire_ with the honey glows that night."

She smiled. She could remember that.

They sat there for a while, saying nothing. Then he turned to her, his expression suddenly firmer. His voice was his own, but the way he spoke was strange, as if she somehow heard her own mannerisms and inflections projected through his words. "Tammy, you're running out of time."

She turned her head to face him. "I don't know what else I can do."

"We have to think of something." Felix's expression was resolute, determined. "If there's one thing I know how to do, it's fix things."

_The real Felix, maybe_, she thought to herself. This figment, this dream-creation was merely a shade, a mockery of a person so complex and detailed that she could not possibly do him justice. She felt a certain malice toward him. _Look at me, talking to myself. Me and my silly little shadow._

The dream-Felix sounded hurt. "At least you _have_ a shadow," he said quietly.

A few more moments of silence passed.

"Promise me something, Felix."

Felix looked down at the ground, his voice tinged with guilt. "I don't think I should be making any more promises."

She nudged up his cap and gave him a gentle smile. "Promise that you'll wait here for me."

"No, Tammy." Felix got to his feet and looked her in the eyes, his brow furrowed. "Don't give up. Maybe the answer's closer than you think." He slipped off his yellow work gloves and gave her his hands, and she took them for a moment, feeling a strange sensation at his touch. Her subconscious mind, she realised, was trying to tell her something.

As she ran her fingers down every crevasse of his palm, she was surprised that she remembered them in so much detail. "Focus," urged Felix. "I know you can do it."

And suddenly, she saw where her subconscious had been pointing - where it wanted her to look. The idea seemed comical really, but at the same time she was surprised it had not come to her before.

Felix flashed her a smile, and said in a voice that was almost her own, "It's worth a shot, right?"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading - as always, if you enjoyed, I would love to hear your reviews! They always mean a lot to me and encourage me to keep going! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Alrighty, it's time for the final chapter! I always get a big sense of satisfaction from finishing a fic, so hooray! *breaks out the party poppers***

***ahem***

**Onto the reviews!**

**nessier15: I bet you got it :D Read on and find out! Thanks so much for your lovely review, and I am so glad you are enjoying it. I hope you like this final chapter!**

**I fix it felix: Thank you, I certainly have kept going and I hope you like this final part :) Thanks for reading all of it so far!**

**hannahweasley12: Nice work, you figured it out ;) A little earlier than Calhoun did that's for sure!**

**Guest: Same for you, shame you couldn't pop into the story and explain it to Calhoun earlier!**

**purpledragon6: YOU are awesome :D Thanks so much for sticking with it and for reviewing all three chapters and I hope you enjoy this one!**

**Myra the Sark: Your wish is my command, here is another chapter for you and thank you for your review!**

**ShaunaChe: Thank you, that's a real compliment! :) I don't think anyone has said that about my stories before. Hope you like chapter four and I would really like to know what you thought of the ending - a little less dark I hope!**

**And now, without further ado, the final part! If you would like to see me write more WIR fanfiction let me know - and as always your reviews and words mean a lot to me.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"I need you to wreck something for me."

Ralph gave her an odd look. "Why?"

"Because," she said sternly, "I think I've figured out a way to make this old thing work." Calhoun tapped the cold, grey hammer that hung from her belt. "Here. Break apart this candy cane." She motioned to one of _Sugar Rush_'s enormous trees. It was at least five times her height and littered with delicious, sickeningly-sweet branches which protruded out like pine needles.

Ralph looked at his paw-like hand, then at the sturdy trunk. With a large, perfectly-judged motion he slammed his fist into the tree, causing it to topple. As it hit the ground it shattered into pieces, revealing the strawberry growth rings inside. She had never noticed it before, but there was an odd precision to wrecking things.

"Good job, Wreck-It," she said, impressed.

"Thanks – that means a lot."

Ralph watched as she unhooked the hammer and grasped it firmly in her hand. Trembling, she knelt down over a shard of the demolished candy cane and held the hammer aloft. She didn't know whether she needed to say those four short words, but somehow it felt right.

"I can _fix it!_"

As the hammer struck its target she felt a surge of energy ripple through her body like a shockwave, the force of it so great that she fell back onto her hands.

"Look out!" Ralph threw his arms around her and pulled her away. In an instant, thousands of broken, jagged splinters lifted themselves off the ground and danced in the air as if pulled together by some mystical force. The broken remnant of the trunk righted itself, and in the space of a few seconds the candy cane was whole again, pristine and good as new. Calhoun broke out of Ralph's grip and went to touch it.

"What just happened?" Ralph sat wide-eyed, staring at the newly-formed tree.

"It's the magic," she replied. Her voice was different, as if she were half in another place, talking to somebody else entirely. "_I'm a Fix-It_. When Felix and I were married, somehow the magic passed onto me. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner." It was true. The hammer she held in her hand had turned from a dull, toneless grey to a brilliant shade of gold.

Ralph burst into a joyous laugh. Where once the notion of fixing things had made his life a misery, now it seemed like the most wonderful thing in the world. "So what are you going to do?"

She looked down for a moment. "I'm going to hunt down that monster," she said, her expression pulling into a tightened frown, "and I'm going to end this once and for all."

Ralph got to his feet and looked her in the eyes with the same steadfast determination that made the man-mountain so unmoveable. "I'm coming with you."

* * *

The cy-bug's thoughts rarely took on words. When they did, they were blunt feelings: _Kill_, _Feed_, _Destroy_. But Felix could often tell the creature's mood, and that night the creature was furious. Starved of its meal, it speared its long pointed claw into a wriggling egg. The larva inside writhed helplessly, impaled on the steel, and the cy-bug quickly shovelled it into its mouth.

As the insect watched its reflection in a puddle on the cavern floor it saw the twisted face of its human host looking back with a distorted scowl. How this weak, pathetic creature had managed to take control had astounded the cy-bug, and as it gorged on the maggot it sent another burning jolt of pain toward its secondary, parasitic mind.

It seemed to have worked. It hadn't heard a peep out of him for the last twenty-four hours.

* * *

Ralph squeezed into an ill-fitting combat suit. "It's a little snug," he wheezed, his heavy-set body almost bulging out of the armour.

"A marine has to be in shape, Wreck-It." Calhoun had tried her hardest to convince Ralph to stay in the relative safety of _Sugar Rush_. The wrecker, however, had insisted on coming along. Whether it was out of misplaced guilt she didn't know, but after much persuading she had reluctantly agreed. She turned to her troops in her familiar hard-edged manner. "Alright, now shut your chew-holes and listen up. Everything you've done up to now was basic training. The hatchery is like nothing you've ever seen before; mile upon mile of cy-bug scum, with no way out and no escape." She paused for effect. "Any of you ladies want to back out?"

The men stood in silence, sharing a few nervous glances.

"Good. Now let's move; we've got a cybrid to find."

The burrow into which the creature had retreated was now rain-slick and fast crumbling in on itself. On the sergeant's orders Ralph heaved a few huge handfuls of sodden, sticky mud from the ground, clearing a hole wide enough for the marines to slip through. One by one they entered the narrow passageway, each causing more debris to fall in behind them. By the time they were all inside the entrance had become little more than a shaft of light, and only a few feet into the tunnel they were plunged into near-darkness.

Calhoun lit a flare and wiped the dirt from her visor. The ground was barely more than a swamp; she waded rather than walked, her suit caked up to the waist in mud.

"Markowski, take the back. Kohut, Wreck-It - you're with me."

The only audible noise was a faint trickle as the groundwater permeated through the roof of the tunnel and ran to the ground. The relative silence grew rather unnerving, and as the passage winded ever downwards there was no way to tell how deep underground they were or in which direction they were headed. They had been walking for ten long minutes when Kohut raised his voice.

"Sarge," he said softly, "if this doesn't work, you know what we have to do."

"I know." She didn't look up. True to his code, Kohut always followed protocol, and protocol dictated to _kill all cy-bugs_. Ralph said nothing, but could tell by the sound of the sergeant's voice that she didn't quite have it in her.

Calhoun shook her head. "We have a cavern up ahead. It's not the big one, but be careful."

The tunnel opened out into a large oval chamber, the light from the flare flickering wildly against the cracks and crevasses of the walls. Ralph's boots gave out a terrible squelch as they tugged against the puddles of thick, unforgiving mud; the suction effect was so intense that his legs felt like stone pillars cemented into the ground.

"Wait," Calhoun held him back. "There's something nearby."

Kohut's eyes grew wide. "_Get down!"_

In the space of seconds a huge, monstrous drone burst through the cavern wall and pinned a lone marine against the floor. Before the group could react, the insect pierced the man's steel-plated armour and sliced viciously through his body. The screaming marine flickered and glitched as the drone succumbed to a barrage of laser fire, and thick streams of dislodged dust rained down from the ceiling.

The entire incident lasted less than half a minute.

Calhoun shouted to the troops, her gun still poised to fire. "Who was hit?"

"Kosnick," came a pained voice from the rear of the patrol.

"Damn it," spat Kohut. "If we have any more surprises like that there'll be none of us left by the time we reach the hatchery."

Calhoun glanced at Ralph, whose face had turned a pale shade of green. She reloaded her weapon and set it back in its holster. "Settle your stomach, Wreck-It. Happens every day. Though unlike you, he'll regenerate - so I suggest you watch yourself." She made her way to the hole the drone had left behind. "We'll go this way," she said. "That drone had to come from somewhere."

Beyond this point the passages grew narrower and started to branch at every turn. The effect was disorienting, as if the tunnels diverged out endlessly into a perpetual, unsolvable maze. At times the marines could barely fit through the narrow holes, especially in their bulky armour, and Ralph had to stop on more than a few occasions to widen the entranceways. All the while, the air was filled with a strange, pungent scent that was sweet but somehow unpleasant.

"What _is_ that?" Ralph asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"The smell? Royal Jelly. We're getting closer." Calhoun eyed him sternly. "Be on your guard." After a few hundred metres the passage started to widen, and the scale of the place became apparent. The enormous cavern positively reeked of the sweet, repugnant smell, and the air hummed with a twitching, crawling sound that seemed to get under the skin. Ralph shivered. The floor was littered with eggs - the same kind he had seen in the medal chamber all those months ago on his first trip to _Hero's Duty_. He watched his step.

"It's close," said Calhoun, studying her radar. "We'll head up to the nesting grounds. Follow me."

Tentatively the band of soldiers made their way along the wall. These walls differed from the cold, wet dirt of the passageways; they were coated in some sort of slime and were sticky to the touch. All around them the eggs quivered and shook as if registering their presence, somehow watching them as they passed through the room. The nests sat on a high platform carved into the mud, and as the troops moved further upward the eggs could be seen for what seemed like miles. The dim green glow was a strangely beautiful sight, and Ralph was reminded of the fireflies that used to dance outside the Niceland Apartments.

* * *

The cybrid stirred from its sleep and found a familiar scent in the air. It raised its head. There beside the wall the red glow of the marines' uniforms moved slowly closer, casting arched shadows across the cavern roof.

_They are back_.

The creature smiled to itself, salivating in devilish glee. It lowered its head to the ground and closed its eyes. It would make them think it was vulnerable - and then it would strike.

"Stop," Calhoun ordered. She motioned to Kohut, "Keep Wreck-It out of trouble. I don't want another Nicelander dead today."

"Yes ma'am."

The lone marine crept toward the nest, her bootsteps measured and quiet. The cybrid was curled up in a near-foetal position, its head tucked between its claws, its carapace moving gently up and down with each deep breath. As she came within a few feet of the creature, she reached for the golden hammer with a trembling hand and prayed to some gameless entity that it would work, her breath catching on itself and a stubborn lump lodged in her throat.

Then suddenly, she paused. _Something's not right_.

Shooting her glance upward she immediately noticed the huge, mace-like tail raised over her head. She scrambled to her feet and dived forward. The tail slammed into the ground with shattering force, leaving only a crater where she had stood moments before.

Calhoun turned around to find the twisted face of the cybrid staring straight at her. _He's not in control this time_, she realised, eye to eye with the empty, soulless expression. She shook it off. "This thing's awake," she yelled. "Don't let it get away!" The creature lunged at her with its claws, leaving a large scrape on her legplate as she crawled underneath its belly. Surrounded by its six metal legs she fumbled for the hammer but could not reach it. She cursed to herself and rolled out sideways, narrowly avoiding its limbs which were now churning like pistons as it span around to face the approaching marines. Spotting an opportunity, she grabbed hold of the hammer and launched herself onto the cybrid's back with a few swift steps.

"This ends _now!_"

She thrust the hammer into its hardened shell.

In the next moment she landed violently against the mud-covered ground. The air echoed with laser fire for a few long seconds before the room grew silent again. She groaned as she shifted to her hands and knees, her vision spinning with the impact.

"Sarge," said Kohut, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

She opened her visor and steadied her forehead. "I'll be fine. Just – tell me what happened."

"Well," Kohut laughed, "let's just say I owe you a few at Tapper's."

Calhoun looked up. There was Ralph, standing and cradling something in his arms. She couldn't quite tell, but she was sure there were tears in the bad guy's eyes. She shakily got to her feet.

"Tamora…" He trailed off, and Calhoun could see now that held in his embrace was the small, limp body of Fix-It Felix, Jr. His bright blue uniform was spattered with mud, but everything was just as she remembered it: his big blue cap, his sturdy work boots, even the rosy glow of his cheeks. His eyes flickered open.

"Ralph."

Ralph wiped his eyes with his gloved hand. "Hey, brother."

"We thought you were gone for good, Fix-It," said Kohut with a smile. "I think there's someone you should know was _very_ persistent."

Felix turned his head.

And boy oh boy, there came those honey glows.

* * *

"I love you, Tammy."

Felix's head rested on her chest as she ran her hand through his brown mop of hair. It had taken a while to choose another game from which they could see the stars, but it had been worth it. Eventually they found themselves in _Galaga_, an early-eighties space romp with the same 8-bit charm as _Fix-It Felix, Jr._; it wasn't perhaps quite as nice as, well, Niceland, but it would certainly do.

"Felix," she said quietly, "do you remember what it was like?"

Felix lifted his head and looked at her with a concerned expression. She knew then that something had changed within him; it was a face she had never seen before, tinged with a deep, heavy sadness. He'd had trouble sleeping - that much was evident - but she had simply put it down to the unfamiliar setting of _Sugar Rush_. Ever since that day in the hatchery he had apologised profusely for what had happened, and although the Nicelanders were wary at first they had started to warm up to him once more. Still, the loss of his game had been a devastating blow, one for which he felt entirely responsible.

He took her hand. "Yes. But it doesn't matter anymore - because I've got you."

She smiled and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. "It's funny, isn't it - the things love makes you do."

"It sure is. It's like it just bubbles up inside of me and makes my head go all topsy-turvy."

She held the handyman close and felt his warmth as he pressed against her body.

"Oh! Tammy!" he exclaimed, pointing excitedly up at the stars and wriggling his legs. "That's Ursa Major - my pop told me all about that one!"

Calhoun couldn't help but laugh.

Through all the trials and tribulations, all the pain and anguish, she finally had her Felix back.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you if you read all the way to the end! ;) I hope you enjoyed it and I would love to know what you thought!**


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